


Arranged

by UncleTouchyLich



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bad Touch, General Unpleasantness, Noxus, Short, Short One Shot, Unfortunate Implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:21:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncleTouchyLich/pseuds/UncleTouchyLich
Summary: Swain can't focus on the stage, let alone the girl being awkwardly introduced to him. Despair and responsibility.





	Arranged

Swain can’t focus on the stage. It was a beautiful theater. Lavish. Everything was red velvet and rich, dark silk drapery and deep, dark, precious wood and gleaming gold leaf. The vestiges of wealth and opulence that he always mistrusted. He’d had to attend, he’d needed to make a public appearance. Noxians needed to see him out and about. He’d much rather have gone to one of the stadiums, one of coliseums where the common folk and nobles alike watch great feats of skill. He’d rather that, yes, but he’d also tried to pull back some of the laws and ordinances pertaining to bloodsport, especially when the demand got in the way of justice and-

The woman is speaking to him- an older woman richly dressed and smiling, trying to make small talk and trying to hamhandedly introduce a young woman who is being given the seat directly next to him. It was an expensive box seat. Nobility. He doesn’t absorb her words. He’s caught in political worries and while his eyes are fixed on the stage he would not be able to tell you if he is attending an opera, a ballet, a play- he has no interest right now. He has other things to worry about. The older woman continues to stand to his left, behind the young woman. Presumably the girl is her daughter. 

Some of what she’s insisting filters through his worries while he tries to keep his eyes on the stage. A clumsy suggestion at an arranged marriage of some sort. The notion was ridiculous- the girl was just that. Only a girl. What was she, eighteen, even? She was young enough to be his daughter. The idea was preposterous. He moves, and his left hand, the red-fingered demonic hand finds purchase on the girl’s knee- he hadn’t known how close she was. The hand begins to squeeze, cruelly. 

The girl starts to scream. She screams and screams and her mother tries to comfort her to no avail. Look girl, look. See who it is? See the ring on his other hand? The raven ring? He’s the vision of Noxus, he can take care of you, you’ll be set for life.

The girl is inconsolable and Swain struggles internally. The hand continues to squeeze, hurting her, and he can’t make it let her go, he can’t remove his hand. Her screams disturb the performance, and he knows people are looking. He can’t bring himself to say something comforting to the crying girl or even look to see the two of them. Her fear and disgust are palpable. Her mother shouldn’t have put her in harm’s way. But here she is, being used as a bet against a family’s prosperity and standing, no doubt.

He is overcome with a feeling similar to despair. People are going to think the worst of him. They already think this. Why bother trying to correct anyone?

He hates this.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a very vivid dream. Someone suggested I post it as a story to get it out of my head. Almost worked.
> 
> Originally posted on not-the-lich.tumblr.com and reblogged to uncle-touchy-lich.tumblr.com - mirrored here for safekeeping.


End file.
